


Fiancée

by Prawnperson



Series: Alternate universes [8]
Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: And it comes to bite him in the ass, F/M, Ghosts, I LOVE LUCY AND SO DOES WOODIE, Kissing, Spying, Wilson is super nosy, this is very self indulgent and based on HCs I have about Lucy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 20:04:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20494568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: Wilson is so nosy. So very, very nosy.





	Fiancée

Wilson is nosy. It’s in his nature. He simply can’t help it. He has to know things. Who’s doing what and who’s doing who, and everything in between.

Something he’s dying to learn about is Lucy the axe. The thing...talks. Talks mainly to Woodie, occasionally to himself and the others, but that’s not the point. The point is that she’s a talking axe. Sure, Wilson’s seen much stranger things since coming to the constant, but the questions itch in the back of his brain.

Every so often, he’ll see Woodie whispering to her. It’s always an inaudible conversation, but they always wander off after one of those kinds of hushed talks. They don’t return for hours. One time, Woodie even came back the next morning. Wilson aches to know what’s happening when they leave.

So, one night, he follows them out of the camp gates. The only one he told was Willow, and even she said that this was a bit far. He knows it is, deep down. He knows he should give them their privacy. He just has to know what they’re doing. His theories range from tree-felling to curse related shenanigans to things couples should keep to themselves. Even Wilson has rules for this sort of thing, and one of those rules is that if they should start doing something like that-somehow-he’ll walk back with his eyes and ears covered.

He’s been ducking and hiding for about half an hour whenever Woodie finally stops. Wilson is nestled in a berry bush, giving him a good overview as the lumberjack sits down on the grass, shrugs off his rucksack, and places Lucy down on the floor. For once, Wilson notes, she doesn’t protest to being let out of his grasp.

“You ready, Luce?”

The axe makes a little affirming noise, and Wilson watches with growing curiosity as Woodie leans back on his palms, stance as relaxed as it could possibly be. Lucy is...shaking, the handle and blade of the axe vibrating faster and faster with each passing nanosecond. She almost looks like she’s glowing. Scratch that- she is glowing. Glowing brighter and trembling like a leaf in a storm and Wilson can hardly look at it without his head hurting and-

There’s a woman.

Not just any woman, but...her. Wilson knows it can’t be anyone else. The axe is still. The red of its blade is duller than usual. It looks wrong, somehow. As for the ghost, she looks just like a normal human, except she’s obviously a spirit. Her body is translucent blue, pale as paint powder. Her dress splays out almost angelically about her as she floats just above the ground. She brushes her bangs out of her eyes, curling it behind her ear to settle with the rest of her bob.

“You’re so pretty.”

He hears Woodie sigh. He can see that his features are softened, gazing up at the spectre before him.

The spectre in question is beautiful. Wilson loves Willow with his entire heart, there’s no question in that, and he could never have eyes for another girl, but, that being said, he isn’t blind. The ghost is gorgeous.

“Shut up!”

She suddenly giggles. Her voice is high and light, both whispery and cheerful at the same time. Woodie laughs, too, the voice that Wilson actually recognises of the two.

“It’s true! Just as beautiful as the day I met you.”

The ghost hovers down to eye level with Woodie, folding her legs underneath herself as she smooths her skirt out. Seemingly just as ladylike in death as in life. 

“You’re such a sap.”

She grins. Wilson feels...bad. He shouldn’t be watching this. This is between them. If they didn’t want it private, they would do it in the main base. 

But he can’t stop watching.

“You wanna smooch?”

Woodie asks, placing his hand just above Lucy’s knee, yet not actually on it, fully aware after so long with a dead partner that his hand would merely slip through her spectral body.

“When don’t I?”

She leans forward, as does Woodie, and Wilson watches with wide eyes as they simply press their lips together. The kiss is gentle. Wilson assumes it’s because Lucy’s body is ectoplasmic fog, yet he can’t help but think that it’s partially Woodie’s nature, too. Respect for her, perhaps. Admiration. A visible shiver runs up Woodie’s spine at what Wilson can only imagine is deathly chill on contact with the lips of his-

“Fiancée.”

Wilson breathes out, the sudden realisation hitting him like a freight train.

“You hear somethin’, Lucy?”

Wilson claps his hand over his mouth as the ghost and the lumberjack both turn their heads in the direction of the bush he’s hiding in.

“Probably just a bunny.”

She sighs, and Woodie nods in agreement. Wilson decides now should be the time he leaves, and so, he does, sneaking away as quietly as he possibly can whilst the other two are distracted by their kissing, now with renewed vigour. 

———

Whenever Wilson returns, he climbs into his tent, not even bothering to undress to his vest and boxers.

“What, you see them havin’ sex?”

Willow chuckles, prompted by Wilson’s soft whimper as he wordlessly buries his face into her neck.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


End file.
